


High heels

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [64]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Brienne falls for a lovely pair of shoes. But there's a catch-they're high heels, ones that'll make Jaime look far shorter in comparison.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [64]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 26
Kudos: 98





	High heels

The first time her eyes fell on them, Brienne fell in love all over again. 

“Would you like to try them out?” the store assistant asked, adding his contribution to pushing her towards a temptation she’d rather not succumb to.

“I—I don’t think so,” she half-heartedly turned him down. Those stilettos were the gods’ gift to women—other women, that is, not the minority species like her who towered above most men, including her tall enough husband. Of course, she wouldn’t exactly label being an inch taller than Jaime towering over him, and while he had fallen for _her,_ for what she was and for all of her, deep-down, she had this lingering feeling that an inferiority complex was bothering him when it came to their height difference.

 _Too tall for a woman,_ he’d called her during the early days of their acquaintance, but that was then, when he was a nasty little piece of shit.

But now, over a period of time, their relationship had evolved and so had Jaime. So maybe, it wouldn’t bother him much?

But then, her nanny’s taunts all through her girlhood returned to her mind, bringing with it all that she’d had to endure about her height, her worse than ordinary looks.

“It’s nice, but are you sure Jaime would be fine standing beside you when you’re wearing this?” Margaery added to her reluctance, drawing her out of her thoughts, throwing her off her loving admiration of the exquisite creation she could only sigh at from afar. “No doubt, you’ll look fantastic in them, but—”

 _But._ There was the ominous _but_ again. Margaery cut herself short at that, but Brienne got the point. “I have plenty of shoes,” she consoled herself. “I don’t need any more.”

_Particularly not this pair. Four inches is more than a bit too much._

+++++

The second time she was reminded of her latest love was when she was flipping through a fashion magazine. A full page advertisement stared at her, begging her, teasing her, beckoning to her to come, make it hers.

“Nah.” She looked up from the page at Jaime who crinkled his nose in blatant disapproval.

“What?” She put away the magazine to grant him her full attention. “You think I can’t carry a pair like this?”

He thought for a second, as if trying to be polite with his feedback. And that was more than enough for her.

“You think I’m too tall for it.”

“I never said that—”

“But your face says it,” she fumed, and before he could find a chance to defend himself, she dashed out of there and locked herself in their bedroom.

+++++

Her third tryst with the object of her affection was when she walked past the store with Sansa.

“They’re at a fifty percent discount,” Brienne grumbled, gazing wistfully at what she couldn’t have.

“There are so many other pairs you could choose from,” Sansa said, singing the same tune as the others who’d offered their opinion. “Why this one?”

“Because I love it,” she whined like a kid being dragged away from a toy store. “I want it.”

“Impulse shopping isn’t what I’d advise.” Her friend gently steered her away from the store, led her towards a make-up place they frequented. “Take a week to think about it. And at the end of it if you still want it, you can, maybe, give it a consideration.”

With that, the matter was laid to rest and Brienne was, once again, left yearning and pining for the pair she couldn’t have.

+++++

The fourth time she was tossed in the path of her lost love was on the online store of the brand while browsing something else.

And this time, Brienne kept a check on herself, made an effort not to click on it. Of course, she couldn’t help ogling fashion’s almost-best creation from the homepage where it was on prominent display.

 _Come here,_ the left shoe called out to her in a seductive voice that could be heard by only the most ardent of fans.

“I’m not falling for you,” she firmly told herself, and tried to focus on another pair by its side.

 _Buy me,_ the right one implored as she couldn’t take her eyes off them. _Wear me and feel like a queen,_ both the left and the right self-advertised themselves. _You know you want us, want to relish the feel of us on your smooth feet, that perfect fit—_

“No!” she hissed, ignoring the feeling of deprivation within her.

This time, for good measure, she closed the browser tab, promising herself not to venture anywhere near the portal until she’d gotten over her infatuation for the elusive pair of shoes the universe didn’t want her to have.

+++++

“Open it,” Jaime insisted for the second time when she continued to stare at the gift-wrapped box he’d presented to her out of the blue that night after dinner. “I promise it’s not some jack-in-the-box that’s gonna pop out and punch you in the face.”

“But what’s the occasion?” Brienne asked, tearing away the bits of tape that kept the wrapping in place. Today was neither her birthday nor their anniversary.

“Do gifts always have to come with an occasion?” He gave her a mysterious half-smile, then shrugged. “It’s just something I thought I’d buy for you.”

Curiosity getting the better of her, she sought no further explanation but took to freeing the box from its papery confinement. “Is it—” she paused; why did it feel like “—it _is_ , isn’t it?”

He said nothing, just crossed his arms to his chest and continued taking in her reaction as she pulled out the pair of shoes she’d set her heart on days ago.

“But you—” She looked down at her gift, then at him, recalling the way he’d reacted when he’d first come across it. “You said I was too tall for such high heels.”

“I never said that, wench.”

“You didn’t like this pair.”

“I _pretended_ not to like it. Because of this—this look on your face—” he got closer to her with a smile that always made her go weak in the knees, a tenderness in his eyes that reached out to every corner of her “—so priceless, so absolutely rewarding. How could I have given up such a golden chance? Margaery and Sansa, they discouraged you at my insistence, because I—”

“—wanted to buy it for me.” Her heart melted at her husband’s thoughtfulness, at how he sprang such unexpected surprises at her. “You do realise it’ll make you look shorter beside me?”

“You wanted it very badly.” He took the shoes from her hand and put the box and its wrappings away. “How could I not get them for you?”

Just like the day he’d proposed to her, he went down on one knee, held the left one for her, and when she slipped her foot into it, then put on the other, she felt as if they were made for her. She felt like Cinderella, and he, her handsome prince, only less cheesier than his fairy tale counterpart. “They’re lovely,” she gushed, her hands caressing his neck when he got up. “Thank you.”

He reached for her phone which was lying on the couch, handy. “Selfie?”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t want him to get all uncomfortable and self-conscious. “I’m going to look much taller than you with these on—”

“Not if I do this.”

He stood on his tiptoes to match her height, and with one arm around her waist and the other adjusting the angle of the phone, he clicked a snap.

The second he was done, he lost his balance and collapsed in her arms.

“Careful,” she teased. His fall reminding her of her favourite scene in Titanic, she bent down to steal a kiss. “I don’t want you twisting a limb or damaging something else.”

He straightened himself to his full height and pulled her closer. “Enough of photos. How about we retire to bed?” He looked her up and down, pupils dark, his breaths getting shorter, faster. When she shifted in his arms, ready to discard her new footwear, to get ready to get down to what they did best, he held her back. “I’d like you to keep them on, wear them to bed.” Eyes brimming with mischief and mystery like they always did whenever he had a surprise for her, he went on to further clarify, “ _Only_ the shoes, Brienne.”

Butterflies came swarming into her tummy as his naughty ask reminded her of Rose’s request in Titanic. Whatever new kink this was, they hadn’t tried it before, and something in his tone told her she was in for the night of her life.

As they hurried away to the bedroom, Brienne, unable to help herself, Whatsapp-ed the photo to Sansa and Margaery with the caption, “He was on tiptoes.” Smiling to herself at the prospect of whatever was to come, she appended an, “I don’t think I can stop him,” with a winking emoji to follow it.

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little fluffy tale inspired by the Nik-Gwen pic we love so much. Let me know what you think!


End file.
